It was just a dream, but not anymore
by MegaOtaku777
Summary: With Holy Rome dead, there is only Italy left. But what happens when he's really alive?  Female Italy and Holy Roman Empire using the song "Just a dream" by Carrie Underwood.


I do NOT take credit for the song or the characters. I just made this for fun, and it is non-profit. And in this alternate reality of mine, Ludwigand Holy Roman Empire are seperate beings and Italy is a girl. Italy's name is Feliciano Vargas, but I shortened it to Feli. More feminine. And Henry is not an original character. If you read, you'll put it together.

Normal text = present.

_Italic text = past._

I take the stage as a voice booms out over the stereo system, "And our final contestant of this year's talent show is Feli Vargas! She will be singing 'Just a Dream' by Carrie Underwood." The crowd applauds at this, and I sit timidly on the stool set in the middle of the stage. The microphone looms in front of me like something foreboding and dooming me to fail.

My cheeks are red as beets, but I calm down a little once I see my new friend, Henry R. Edwards, sitting in the front row. His blue eyes bring me enough comfort and calm that I work up my nerve to speak. "H-Hello," I stutter, fidgeting with my green dress. The fabric poofs out at the bottom, making me look like a multicolored feather-duster, but I like it; it reminds me of something I used to wear when I was little.

I smile to the crowd, even though it doesn't reach my eyes. "Before I begin, I'd like to tell you a little about why I chose this song. It's one of the more depressing ones I've ever heard, but when I was young…my best friend passed away on the battlefield…" My mind flashes back to the time when I was staring down the road, looking at my love's retreating back and clutching myself to keep from crying out.

To be honest, I first sought out Henry as a friend because he reminded me so much of Holy Rome. The way his blond hair bounces around his plumpish face and the way his face lights up when I tell a joke…

I snap back to the present. "Back then, I was too little to sing a song for him at his funeral. So I have decided to make it up to him now. Holy Rome, I hope you can hear me, because this is for you." I don't look at Henry's face as I say this last part; I'm afraid that I'll burst into tears. I take a deep breath, listen to the two measures of music play, and begin. My voice starts out small and soft as I try not to cry.

It was two weeks after the day she turned 18,  
>All dressed in white, going to the church that night.<br>She had his box of letters in the passenger seat,  
>Six pins in her shoe, something borrowed, something blue<p>

_I remember the day that I got the message that Holy Rome had died. I was sweeping the front porch, and a military man, one of Holy Rome's friends, came up to me. His head was bruised, his eye was swollen, and he had one arm in a sling. Without a word, he handed me a letter addressed to me in Holy Rome's handwriting, and watched silently as I opened it._

'_Italy,' it read, 'If you are reading this, that means I am dead. I'm sorry to leave you in this world all alone. But it can't be helped. I just wish I could have seen you grow up to be a beautiful woman. Live peacefully and happily._

'_Yours forever,_

'_Holy Rome.'_

And when the church doors opened up wide,  
>She put her veil down, trying to hide the tears.<br>Oh, she just couldn't believe it.  
>She heard the trumpets from the military band,<br>And the flowers fell out of her hands.

_The letter dropped out of my numb hand and landed on the newly-swept deck. Mr. Austria and Ms. Hungary came rushing to the door just as I collapsed to the floor and wailed. Ms. Hungary held me close as Mr. Austria read the letter. He didn't cry, though I could tell that he was close._

Baby, why'd you leave me? Why'd you have to go?  
>I was counting on forever, now I'll never know!<br>I can't even breathe!

_At the funeral, all we had left of my best friend was his picture; there wasn't enough left of his to salvage from the battlefield. Everyone around me was dressed in solid black, nothing but a wall of sadness to a little six-year-old. Only I was dressed in color. I knew how much Holy Rome loved to see me in pretty dresses and a smile on my face; he'd told me so many times. I decided that, even though he was dead, that if he could watch his funeral he'd be very depressed at the tears and black._

_I didn't want him to be sad, even in death, so I wore the dress that he loved the most; a simple green dress with a white lace bodice and a white kerchief bandana keeping my hair away from my face. A small curl of red hair kept darting out from under the cloth covering, but I ignored it. It wasn't important._

It's like I'm looking from a distance, standing in the background.  
>Everybody's saying, he's not coming home now.<br>This can't be happening to me, this is just a dream.

The preacher man said, "Let's bow our heads and pray.  
>Lord, please lift his soul and heal this hurt."<br>Then the congregation all stood up and sang  
>The saddest song that she ever heard.<p>

_When the last speech had been given, I had heard everyone singing the saddest song ever imaginable. I couldn't remember the lyrics, but I remember crying horribly when I thought of Holy Rome every time they mentioned 'Heaven', 'Death', or 'gone now'._

And then they handed her a folded up flag,  
>And she held on to all she had left of him.<br>Oh, well, what could've been!  
>And then the guns rang one last shot,<br>And it felt like a bullet in her heart!

_Finally, as the ceremony ended, the man who had given me the letter handed me a small, folded flag. He told me that it was tradition to give it to the one person that the departed one was closest to. I broke down at that, just as the last shot fired. I remember imagining that I had been shot, and that I would finally get to see holy Rome again. But I knew it wouldn't happen._

_Later, Mr. Austria scolded me for not wearing black, but I didn't care. I knew that if Holy Rome had been watching, he would have been smiling._

Baby, why'd you leave me? Why'd you have to go?  
>I was counting on forever, now I'll never know!<br>I can't even breathe!

_Many nights after that, I would wake up screaming for Holy Rome. And every time, Ms Hungary would rush into my room, hug me tightly, and whisper that he was never coming back. I just clutched her tightly, wishing with all my heart that she was lying._

It's like I'm looking from a distance, standing in the background.  
>Everybody's saying, he's not coming home now.<br>This can't be happening to me, this is just a dream.

Oh, this is just a dream.  
>It's just a dream, yeah, yeah.<p>

As the last notes of the song fade away, I feel something tickling my cheek. Reaching up, I feel the wet tear that has somehow traced its way down my face. The whole audience explodes into joyous applause as I just stare uncomprehendingly at the water on my shaking fingers. I bow politely, trying to resist the urge to run offstage.

I nearly collapse as I finally get backstage. I fall into a nearby chair and burst into tears that shake my body. A couple of the other contestants come to pat my back reassuringly, but they end up leaving when they see that it won't do any good.

I have just stood up, my knees knocking, when I hear a voice. "Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer says into the microphone, "we have our talent show winner!" He waves an envelope in the air, his face stretching with a fake smile. "And, with a perfect score," he pauses for effect, "our winner is," he pulls the small slip of paper out, "Feli Vargas!"

I nearly fall again. I had only signed up to sing; I hadn't expected to win! My other friend who had done the show as well, Ludwig, Had to support me as I made my way to the center of the stage. "Congratulations, Feli!" I really wish the man would stop smiling when he doesn't mean it, but I don't say this.

He hands me a small trophy, a couple more people clap, and it's over with. Ludwig is still holding onto my arm when Henry comes up to me, his face flushed. Just like Holy Rome's used to be…

"Can I talk to her for a minute?" he asks Ludwig in that Italian accent of his. The blond boy beside me nods slowly, releasing his grip on my arm. He goes to stand a little ways away against the wall, keeping an eye on us the whole time.

"Feli," he starts, "that was really beautiful. And I know how you feel." I look at him quizzically, my head bent to one side. "When I was small, I had to say goodbye to my best friend forever. She didn't die, but it was still just as bad…" Henry is looking at me oddly, as if he's begging me to get some underlying message.

"What was her name?" I ask, suddenly cautious and anxious at the same time. My pulse is speeding as he opens his mouth.

"It's kind of funny, because her name was the same as yours."

My jaw drops open a little, and the trophy almost slips from my hands. I take a step towards Henry, saying words that I never thought would come out of my mouth: "Holy Rome? Is that you?" The Italian accent that I've been hiding for years slips back out. My voice sounds small and vulnerable, just like it used to when I was young.

Henry, or Holy Rome, puts his pale hand up to my face, staring into my eyes. He seems to be searching for something hidden in my wide orbs. Finally, his face softens, and I think I see un-spilled tears lurking in his eyes. He responds with one word, one word that shakes my whole world.

"Yes."

I clutch him to me, letting the golden trophy drop to the floor with a clang. Ludwig almost rushes over, but once he sees that nothing is wrong, he leaves us be. Holy Rome immediately hugs me back, every crevice of our bodies pressed together.

"I finally found you…" we both say in unison.

And, for the first time since I got the letter, I smile from my heart.


End file.
